Supposed Former Infatuation Junkies
by rhysmeyersfan
Summary: [Friday Night Lights] One depressed Tim. One drunk Tyra. One Dillon party. Misery loves company. Even if the present company is pissed.
1. Uninvited Glances

**CHAPTER 1**

The slender blonde leaned against the arm of the couch feeling herself starting to fall over. If it weren't for the arm in question she would have without a doubt been on the floor. Yes. Tyra Collette was drunk. Probably more drunk than she'd been in awhile. But hey, her current situation called for it. She didn't even want to come to this damn party. She rarely ever attended the many Dillon parties anymore. She glances over at a few of the Sophomore girls that she had never taken the time to even acknowledge whispering and looking right at her. She didn't need to ask. She knew what they were whispering about. It was the same reason that they had thrown water on Lyla Garrity at the football game last week. Not that she felt sorry for Lyla. She'd never liked her. Not since they met in the first grade.

No, she didn't blame her. Not entirely. She blamed him. This was his fault. A few days ago in the hallway at school when she asked him if he was in love with her he didn't answer. But his eyes did the talking. They always did. They never had to talk. She could always look at him and know what he was thinking or what he wanted from her. At least partly. But that didn't matter anymore. Nothing involving Tim Riggins mattered to her anymore. She was through. Through trying to be there for him. Through trying to be let in. Through dealing with his rapid mood swings. Through giving a damn about him. Through with it all.

Figures. Just as she's thinking about this she spots him across the room. He's skulking in the corner with a few of the Panthers listening to them talk. He is the only one without a beer in his hand. He'd probably quit for Lyla. Like that was going to make her love him back. Please. In a way, Tyra was happy for him. While they were together most of their bigger fights (and pretty much all quarrels in general) had been fueled by alcohol. He would even get drunk before their dates which had always annoyed her. No. She would not let herself care about him. He was on his own. She was on her own. This is way it should be. Lyla did her a favor.

She looks away quickly with an eye roll as he looks her way, his eyes partly on the floor. She tryed to focus on the countertop in the kitchen but ended up meeting the eyes of Smash Williams who was talking to some girl by the refridgerator. She gives him a smile, raising her plastic cup. He smiles back doing the same. She'd always liked Smash. He was good looking. Motivated. Had his head in the right place. He had always treated her with respect. And it was no secret that he'd always liked her. A big plus was that Tim hated him. Since they started playing on the Panthers together anyway. It was almost like they were both threatened by each other but weren't man enough to admit it. Typical guy drama. Don't ask, don't tell, just hate with a passion for no reason spoken. Their flirtation with one another was an easy way to make Tim jealous. And as much as Tyra hated to admit it she got off on it. Jealousy was a weapon she always used well.

Her eyes wander back to the corner of the room and she notices that he's left the group. He had probably seen her and bailed. Pussy. That was so Tim. Not wanting to deal with anything. The same reason he waited so long to visit Jason in the hospital. That was what she disliked, even hated, about him the most. His inability to face anything. To acknowledge anyone but himself. Whatever. She took another sip of her beer, finishing it off, and grabbed another from the pack on the floor. She pops it open and stumbles towards the back hallway to the bedrooms. She needed to lie down. Getting drunk alone sounded pretty great right now.

She turns as someone bumps into her, causing half of the bottle to spill on the floor and then on her new shirt. "Goddamn it! What the hell?!"

It was Bart Oliver. "Hey baby. What's going on? How you doing tonight?" He touches the ends of her blonde hair and she defensively swats him away. He was even more drunk than she was.

"How am I doing? Not that well seeing as I now have beer on the front of my shirt because of your dumb, drunk ass." Tyra hisses trying to get past him. He slams his arm hard against the wall blocking her way past him. She narrows her eyes. "Not tonight, alright Bart? I'm not in the mood for this right now. Really. Just get out of my face."

He tries to touch her with the other hand and she swats it away again, harder this time so he might get the message that the last thing that she wanted was to be touched by him of all people. Going out on a date with him was the biggest mistake she'd made in a long time. What a loser. "You know I was standing over there watching you thinking-"

"Oh, you were actually thinking? Wow. There's a shock." She makes a face when he touches her hair again, pushing him away this time. "Get the hell off of me."

He puts his free hand up in a surrendered position, keeping the other one firmly against the wall. "No one's touching anybody, baby. I was thinking that our date last week didn't go too well and that I want to take you out again. Come on, give me another chance. I'll take you places you ain't never been. I promise."

Tyra laughs, trying not to lose her temper. Her temperment always got worse when she was intoxicated. In fact, stories of her drunken scenes at parties were legendary at Dillon High. "Right. That'll definately happen. But right now," She pushes hard on his arm against the wall, causing him to drop it and hold it to his chest in pain, "I suggest that you pick up one of the rally girls over there, take her back to your truck, have your way with her, and then go home and sleep it off."

He's silent, shocked by her verocity. "But let me give you a little advice. When you do go home, don't think about me. Because even your fantasy of me, whatever that may be, is too good for you." She turns to leave and then turns back to him. "Oh, and one more thing. Touch me again tonight or any other night and I'll cut off that dick of yours that you're so proud of. Got it?"

And with that, she made her way back down the hallway and into a dark bedroom.


	2. A Dark Bedroom and Some Conversation

**CHAPTER 2**

She closes the door behind her and locks it. The last thing she wanted was Bart or some other drunk idiot coming in while she was sleeping and trying something. She throws the empty beer bottle across the room and plops down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. She shifts her weight and lies on her side, closing her eyes.

A few seconds later, she heard a shuffle and then felt the comforter move beneath her legs. Then a familiar gruff groan. Her eyes opened wide. She thought she was alone. After her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she noticed two sleepy eyes staring back at her. No, it couldn't be. She could not possibly be that unlucky.

"Hey." says a familiar voice with a half yawn.

She sits up and turns on the light next to her side of the bed. Tim was lying on the bed next to her. "Tim! What the hell are you doing in here? Get out!"

Tim gives her a short, blank stare and runs both of his hands through his long hair. Several beats passed before he even bothered to respond. "It's not like I snuck in here, T. I was in here and you showed up."

She rolls her eyes, almost falling back onto the bed. Tim holds one of his arms out and steadies her right shoulder. Almost as if it was second nature. She quickly stands up on her own, taking a few steps back. "I didn't- you know what? I'm not even going to do this with you. It's not worth it. I don't know why everyone keeps messing with me tonight. Everytime I turn around-" She throws her hands up. "First Bart's all over me. Now you're in here bugging the crap out of me. Damn."

He couldn't help but smile at her drunken rant. But he didn't dare open his mouth to comment. He knew better than to try and argue with her when she was in this state. What had she meant when she said Bart was all over her? No. They were broken up now. It was none of his business. He wasn't in the mood (drunk) to get into anything with anyone tonight anyway.

Tyra looks down at her shirt seeing that the beer stain had gotten worse in the few minutes since it happend in the hallway. "Son of a bitch. Drunk...mama's boy...son of a whore.." She stumbles over to the mirror taking a closer look.

Tim turns his head towards the mirror. "Good old Bart?"

Tyra couldn't help but laugh. "Shutup! I love this shirt. You know I don't even know why I'm here. I really hate these things."

"I know you do," He starts playing with a piece of fabric on the comforter. "Why'd you come then?"

Shrugging, "Nothing else to do I guess." She looks down, not wanting to meet his stare. "All of this over you. It's so dumb. It shouldn't be this hard for me."

He looks at her curiously, trying to figure out if this was her or the boose talking. "What are you talking about, Tyra?"

"I'm talking about us, Tim. This messed up thing with Lyla and Jason. I don't know.." She feels the tears welling up but inside is willing herself not to let them fall. He'd never seen her cry and he was never going to. Not over him.

He watched her closely in the dim light and couldn't believe what he was witnessing. Tyra Collette was crying. He had only seen her cry twice before. Once when they were in the sixth grade. They hadn't started dating yet but were always flirting with eachother and getting called on it by teachers. Someone had stolen her favorite bracelet from the girls lockerroom during gym class and she was heartbroken. He saw her crying outside by the flagpole and said he'd find the bracelet for her and would pound whoever had taken it. He sat with her on the bench and let her cry into his chest and all over his black t-shirt.

The second time was in the ninth grade after they'd been together for almost two years. That was their first big fight and breakup. He'd said alot of things and so had she. Her words had barely had any effect on him. He was used to being called names as a child and general and had become immune to it in a way. But his words had hurt her. He knew this because he went after her when she drove off in her truck in anger. He found her parked on the side of the road crying her eyes out. His words had hit close to home and at that moment he felt worse about hurting her that deeply than he did about anything in his whole life. Up to that point anyway. His heart still ached when he thought back to that night. Which he did often.

Tim was taken out of his thoughts when he notices her sitting on the end of the bed, turned away from him. He sits up and moves closer to her, placing a hand on her back. When she tenses at his touch he removes his hand. "I'm sorry. I- T, I did what I did. I can't change it. I lo-" He could barely get the words out. She had brought it up in the hallway at school and he hadn't been able to answer her. He was ready to answer her now.

She looks up from the ground, staring ahead. "You're in love with Garrity."

He looks down at the bed sheets. He honestly didn't know. He knew he felt something for Lyla but didn't know if it was love. It was something he'd never felt before and was different than what he felt for Tyra. He knew that. Maybe he wasn't capable of loving someone like that. "I don't know anymore. All I know is that I feel like shit. Ok? And I'm sorry. For what I did to you and to Jay. To the both of you. I can't take it back and I don't know if I would if I had the chance."

Tyra lies down on her back next to an upright Tim. She runs her hands over her face trying to think of some kind of an angry comeback to what he'd just said. But she couldn't think of one. She was just too tired and too sad. Jason was probably feeling ten times worse than both of them. Jason. She felt so badly for Jason. He'd lost the use of his legs, his best friend, and his girlfriend. What had she lost? "I'm so tired." She looks up at him, "Are you tired?"

He looks down at her and runs a hand through her blonde hair. "I didn't want to hurt you. As hard as that is to believe, that's not what I wanted."

"You know what I wish?" Tyra asks, guiding his hand into her own. "That the past few months would just dissapear and everything would go back to how it was. Simple and normal. Everything feels messed up now. Like there's nothing left to hope for."

He enlaces his fingers with hers, "Nothing gets better, Tyra. Everything is always messed up. That's just how it is. We just have to deal with it. Deal with life as it comes."

"When did you get so smart?" She is half-laughing now.

He shurgs, "Let's just say I've had alot of time to think these past couple of weeks. And the no drinking thing's cleared my head.. I guess." He lies down next to her. "I'm tired too."

She moans and closes her eyes, holding his hand tighter. "I don't want to do anything, ok? I just want to sleep."

Tim grips her hand tighter as well and closes his eyes. "Sounds good to me."

**THE END**


End file.
